Call me John
by sharpe26
Summary: After the events of 5x13 life became a bit more normal for Samira Shaw, until she rescues a man from what she 'thinks' are muggers. Story is a one shot though.


"Call me John."

If she had a dating profile somewhere online, it would have stated that she enjoyed long walks with Bear, now her dog, and certain types of active sports. In this way she got in the usual recommended exercise.

But, Shaw was also bored.

The Machine, or Root as she sometimes called it, hadn't contacted her in weeks. Sure, the self defense class she thought alleviated the boredom and there was a bit of excitement with an attempted rapist that she encountered on her walk home. Yesterday, Shaw received a message from Fusco on the rapist.

Said rapist would need another week in the hospital. She considered it a job well done.

Whilst casually walking home on the short cut she always took after Shaw finished her self defense class, the sounds of a scuffle reached her ears.

There were three men fighting up ahead.

One other man was already down and out on the ground.

" 'ey you, this doesn't concern you. Walk away now or we re not going to be nice when this is over."

The guy spoke with an accent, an accent that Shaw recognized as Russian. Instead of just turning around and walking away, she frowned.

"Why?"

"Walk away now, lady!" The voice had been in the shadows at first, but now came out. She immediately picked up the fact that 'voice' as she had now decided was fat and almost certainly out of shape. The 9mm with a suppressor on it complicated the matter at hand a little bit, but Shaw was already glad be rid of the boredom for a little while.

'Voice' with his little pistol came a little bit too close, intending to shove her away.

Instead, he got shoved right into the dumpster behind him, when Shaw broke his nose. For good measure, and her own security, she broke both his hands as well and then picked up the pistol he had dropped.

The men up ahead were still furiously fighting each other. She then heard the knife go in before she even saw it. One of the three fighting men then slowly got down on his knees, clutching his hands over an area near his belly.

One of the two remaining men then rushed up to the man and despite some resistance, managed to grab both hands and put them behind the man that had been fighting them.

Shaw noticed that the other man still had his knife. It almost felt like old times.

Knife man died first. Shaw put two rounds into his chest.

That, in turn attracted the attention of hands man. Shaw shot him through the head as he looked up to see what was going on.

She approached carefully looking for any side of movement from the two men she had just shot. There was none.

The man who had been stabbed however slowly but surely began to get up.

Feinting that she was walking casually, Shaw moved in his direction.

"Let me have a look at you."

"Njet! I'll be fine." he gasped through clenched teeth.

Shaw frowned. Did this guy think she was a Russian and why was that?

Before she could say anything else, the man was up and walking away.

"I'm a doctor, I've got an apartment around the corner from here. You can at least let me look at those wounds."

The man stopped again. Shaw noticed he was getting a little week in the knees. So she managed to reach him before he fell on the ground again. This time, she reached into her bag and withdrew a large gauze she kept around for these situations. The man himself apparently had experience with the situation as he nearly yanked the gauze from her hands and pressed it against the wound, hard.

"Where is your apartment, doc?"

 _the following morning_

He awoke startled, gasping for air. It soon filled his longs in the required amount and this helped him calm down. Was it the fact that all his clothes were gone and that he was in someone else' bed? Or was it the fact that his wounds had been tended to on an almost professional level?

"Good morning, though guy."

The voice was rather feminine, and as he looked the man noticed the voice did indeed belong to a female.

"I noticed your tats. Last night wasn't very bold if you ask me."

He said nothing in reply, instead choosing to curl up somewhat under the still warm sheets.

The 'doc' wandered off to the kitchen sink. Pretty soon the air around the bed was filled with the scent of coffee and toast.

"Light breakfast. As far as I can tell that stabby guy didn't hit anything vital. You should be good to go in a couple of days."

"They'll find me."

"Who?"

"I don't expect you to understand this.." He trailed off.

To his own surprise she didn't reply but walked off back to the kitchen. He could then see she had a small pistol, probably a Nano, hidden on the small of her back.

This time, she came back with new gauze.

"So, now that we have the usual bull out of the way, what do I call you?"

He removed the sheets from his body as he saw new medical supplies. "Call me...John."

fin


End file.
